6 reviews and 10 favourites already!

I'm so glad to see that you guys like Jonathan too, and I'm not the only one who was upset about the end of City of Heavenly Fire. This was originally going to be in the prologue, but I decided to make it into another chapter instead because it was too long.

There will be a bit of drama in this one, as well as Jonathan-Clary sibling bonding! :) I know you're all dying for that.

Happy reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments.


"Cos I'm only human, and I bleed when I fall down. I'm only human, and I crash and I break down. Your words in my head, knives in my heart, you build me up and then I fall apart, cos I'm only human…"

- Human, Christina Perri


Chapter One

Clary was exhausted.

It was three in the morning and she had just finished repeating her story about ten times: to Jia Penhallow, to Jocelyn, to Luke, to Simon and Isabelle and Jace.

To put it plainly, she felt she had done quite enough talking for the day, but unfortunately, the whole Clave was still waiting to hear the tale.

Jonathan had stayed silent, his eyes cast down, hair falling across his face. Clary couldn't blame him; the suspicious looks and whispers sent his way didn't make anything easier. Clary could almost imagine what the Shadowhunters must be saying about them. Traitor. Untrustworthy. Valentine's children…

Not for the first time, she felt a surge of hatred against Valentine. It hadn't been enough for him to torture them all when he was alive; even when he was dead, he still cast his shadow upon his children, tarnishing their name and reputation.

She, at least, was fortunate enough to look like Jocelyn, to have been brought up away from the Shadow world, to be short and unremarkable, and ordinary.

But Jonathan, with his white-blonde hair and six foot three frame, Jonathan, who looked so much like Valentine, who had been Valentine's arrow, sent into the heart of the Clave – Jonathan would be the focus of the Shadowhunters' anger and hatred.

Clary's eyes lingered on the doorway which Isabelle had dashed through not so long ago, Simon rushing after her. Clary had had to beg Simon and Jace to physically restrain her until she explained the full story to them. Jonathan hadn't raised a finger in his defence, not even moving when Isabelle had started towards him with her whip in her hand and her dark eyes bright with rage. It was only when Clary flung herself in front of her brother that Isabelle had agreed to listen.

Isabelle had stayed silent throughout the tale, only to leave immediately when it was over. Shooting Clary an apologetic look, Simon had dashed after her.

Clary knew that someone should have gone after Isabelle – who knew what she would do in this frame of mind – but she still fervently wished Simon was there to talk to her, to help her get her jumbled thoughts straight.

Jonathan was standing next to her, his arms crossed firmly across his chest. His green eyes were worried, and she could tell from the way his fists were clenched that he was tense. She marvelled that how, just a day ago, the same boy she had called enemy was now someone she thought she could love.

Because she didn't love her brother – not just yet – but she cared about him. It had barely been a few hours since she had left Lake Lyn but already she felt a protectiveness towards him, a feeling that made her want to defend him against all the unjust barbs and accusations being flung in his direction.

She didn't know if he felt that way about her, but she thought he did; he constantly glanced at her as if to reassure himself that she was still there, and there was a quiet concern in his eyes and expression.

Another person who couldn't keep her eyes off the two of them was Jocelyn.

In all honesty, Clary had been expecting some dramatic reaction; for Jocelyn to faint, or cry or at least say something. Instead her mother had gone pale white and sank into a chair; Luke had done all the questioning. The only time Jocelyn spoke was after pulling Clary into a fierce bear hug to scold her furiously for going off on her own.

Now it seemed all she could do was stare at her son, as if she was absorbing every single detail, trying to commit every part of him to memory.

"Clary, can I talk to you?"

Startled, it took Clary a few seconds to realize that it was Jonathan who was talking to her. Nodding her assent, she turned to follow him out into the hallway – and found her path blocked by Jace. Not for the first time, she marvelled at how he could move so fast; he had been at the opposite end of the room just a second ago.

"Jace, I appreciate the fact that you finally want to talk to me, but now is not the time. Move."

"Clary, you're not going anywhere with him," Jace said in a quiet but firm voice. He shot a cool glance to where Jonathan waited just outside the room.

Clary's temper, already stretched thin with all the murmurs she could hear in the Accords Hall, snapped. "And who do you think you are to order me around like that? I'll do whatever I want!"

Jace was unfazed. "I don't care what you want. You're not going anywhere alone with him. I'm not going to trust him just yet, good or not."

"He isn't Sebastian!" Clary finally yelled, getting tired of all the suspicious looks and hard stares she had endured. "He's Jonathan, he's a person who never got to live and now when he finally has a chance to, you treat him like this! I can't believe you, Jace. I thought that you, of all people, would understand what it feels like to have people judge you even when you've done nothing wrong."

This broke Jace's composure. "Clary-"

"Don't you Clary me!" she snapped. "I'm going to have a moment with my brother, and while we're on the topic of Sebastian, do you want to tell me why you went chasing off after him by yourself? How you blatantly lied to me and went off on some goddamn suicide mission?"

Jace's eyes held a hint of guilt and regret but before he could say anything Clary stomped past him and slammed the door in his face.

She had had enough.

Breathing hard, she looked up, noticing that Jonathan's gaze was fixed on her. "Why did you do that?" he asked, his voice slightly sad.

"Do what?" Clary shot back, confused.

"Defend me."

She stared. "Because – because you're my brother, and everyone still thinks you're Sebastian without even giving you a chance. How is that fair?"

"They're right not to trust me, Clary," Jonathan told her. "You say Sebastian is not me, but I was him. I remember Clary. I remember killing the real Sebastian Verlac. I remember lying and tricking everyone in Alicante, being delighted in it. I remember seeing you, how you followed me so trustingly, so faithfully, and how I was planning to destroy your life the whole time. I remember killing Max – Max, a nine year old boy – "

His voice broke and Clary saw what he was going to do but even as she sprang forward, he slammed his fist into the stone wall so hard she could hear his bones shatter.

"Jonathan!"

He didn't even seem to notice the pain, she thought, and tears filled her eyes. "Clary?" Jonathan looked alarmed. "Clary, please don't cry."

She dashed the tears away with the back of her hand and stepped forward, drawing her stele from her pocket. His knuckles were split and bloody, his hand hanging at an awkward angle. "It's not your fault," she said gently as she gripped his forearm and started drawing an iratze.

"You didn't do all those things," she told him. "Sebastian did. It was Lilith's blood that poisoned you, that turned you into that – that thing. But you're not that now. You can start over. You can be happy – happy with me and Mom and Luke. Please, try. For me."

He shook his head, despondent. "It doesn't matter, Clary. The Clave will never believe us."

She wished, desperately, that there was some rune to show the Clave the truth, some rune she could use to tell them that she wasn't lying, that Raziel had really-

Suddenly, a spiralling network of swirls and lines exploded in her mind. It was swooping and swirling and bold, a rune to tell a story, to show the past.

Ignoring the puzzled "Clary?" uttered by Jonathan, Clary sprinted to the end of the hallway and out the door, emerging in the middle of the Accords Hall – when the Clave was in session.

"Clarissa Morgenstern!" She heard the angry exclamation, saw Robert Lightwood and Jia Penhallow start to rise, but before they could say anything, she spoke. "Please, listen to me!"

She came to a halt in the centre of the hall, ignoring the vehement exclamations and hostile gazes fixated upon her. There must have been something in her voice, because a hushed silence fell upon the Hall. "I know you don't believe me. I know you think that my brother and I are liars. But I can show you. I can show you everything that happened. Please. Just let me show you."

She looked up at the Consul, and Jia nodded almost imperceptibly.

Clary fell to her knees on the floor and, with her stele clutched firmly in her hand, began to draw. In her head, she remembered standing in the cellar of the Wayland manor, with Ithuriel's voice in her mind, showing her the images of her past, of Jocelyn and Valentine and Luke.

The sizzling black lines spread from the tip of her stele and along the floor, growing and swirling to form the rune. When Clary was finished, she stood back, letting the Clave see what she had done.

The lines started to blur together, blending into one big black mess that suddenly seemed to sink right into the floor and spread in a one big line around it, forming a square.

Almost like a television, the thought rose in Clary's brain, and she had to fight the insane urge to laugh.

She moved away, letting the rune tell the story much better than she herself ever could have, the shocked expressions and stifled gasps the only background noise.

Clary spotted Maryse among the Nephilim, surprised that Maryse's expression seemed to have a hint of pride. Noticing her gaze, Maryse nodded stiffly, and Clary felt astonished. She had always known the Lightwoods' mother didn't really like her but maybe now she had gained the woman's respect.

Robert Lightwood's expression was perfectly expressionless. "You may go, Clarissa. The Clave will take into account what you have shown us and come to a decision. Of course, you and your brother will still have to stand trial by the Mortal Sword."

Clary gave a brief nod and slipped out of the hall, closing the door behind her. She had done it.

Jonathan and Jace were waiting for her. Standing right next to each other, Clary couldn't help but notice how they looked so similar to each other – both were the same height, and with their golden hair and complexion, they might as well have been brothers.

They were, Clary realized bemusedly. Not by blood, but Valentine had raised both of them with the same iron fist and she could see it in everything; in the fluid grace with which they moved, the way they held themselves, even in the way their blonde hair fell into their eyes.

They even had the same first name: Jonathan Herondale and Jonathan Morgenstern.

"What was that about?" Jace demanded, taking a step forward. "Did the Clave come to a decision?"

"No," Clary sighed. "They're still deliberating." Suddenly, she scowled. "And don't think you're getting off easy. You still have to answer to me about Sebastian."

At this, she noticed Jonathan flinch and felt a stab of guilt. Pushing it away, she glared at Jace, folding her arms over her chest. Clary admitted to herself that there was no way in hell she could look intimidating and this proved to be true when Jace chuckled and Jonathan cracked a smile.

"This is Clary as you will come to know and love," Jace announced to Jonathan. "She never lets anything slip by her so be careful what you do and say."

"Got it," Jonathan noted, nodding his head seriously.

Clary, hardly able to believe what she was seeing, narrowed her eyes. "Since when did you two get all buddy-buddy? Last I saw, it was all 'you are my mortal enemy, and I want to rip you to shreds'.

Jace shrugged. "I saw what you did in there," he gestured to the door. "And I thought I'd give him the benefit of the doubt. I trust you, Clary."

I trust you. Clary's tense posture relaxed, and she smiled. "Good. Now can I please talk to him alone?"

Jace looked from Clary to Jonathan, nodded, and went back into the room. Clary craned her head back to look into Jonathan's eyes as he approached. Why does he get all the good genes?

Jonathan blinked. "What?"

"Oops," Clary realized. "Did I say that out loud? I didn't mean to."

"I got all the good genes?" her brother asked, an almost teasing smile on his face. "I'm not the one who can create runes from nowhere, little sister."

"And I'll be perpetually stuck as short and thin," Clary grumbled. "With the hair that never behaves."

"At least your father didn't decide to inject you with demon blood," Jonathan said bitterly and then started, as if he'd just realized what he said. Clary bit her lip, cursing herself for her foolishness. "I'm sorry – "

"Clary," he shook his head. "Don't apologize to me. I should be thanking you."

Clary was taken aback. "Why?"

"I thought Jace wouldn't tell you this part," Jonathan smiled wryly. "I wasn't alive when Raziel brought me back, you know. Jace killed me – or Sebastian, that is."

"He did what?" Clary's eyes widened. "But Sebastian had demon blood! He was invincible!"

Jonathan shrugged. "That's what everyone thought, but don't underestimate Jace. Isabelle attacked, and Sebastian thought Jace was dead, but he wasn't. He managed to kill Sebastian when he was torturing Isabelle. Stabbed him through the heart from the back."

"Wow," Clary said. "The Angel brought you back from death and from evil."

"Yes." Jonathan hesitated. "And I know there'll always be those who won't believe that I'm sorry for what I did. Those who won't forgive me. But please, believe me Clary. I'll never forget what I did till the day I die. I'll regret it for the rest of my life."

"I believe you," Clary said quietly. "But I know you're a good person. And I will always believe that."

Jonathan cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair, and Clary blinked twice to make sure she hadn't seen wrong – had her brother just blushed?

"Also," he hesitated, "I'm really sorry for kissing you by the Fairchild manor the other day."

Clary was very sure her cheeks were matching her hair at this point.

"Yeah that was weird," she agreed. "But didn't we already establish the point that it was Sebastian and not you? Although, I think we probably shouldn't tell Mom about that. Since it is, you know, incest and all."

"By the Angel, Sebastian was an asshole," Jonathan looked up, emerald eyes bright with hatred.

"That he was," agreed Clary fervently.

They stood there looking at each other, siblings united after sixteen years of being apart. She knew that she had only come to know Jonathan a few hours ago but he felt as familiar to her as Luke. He wasn't a stranger; he was someone whose blood flowed in her veins too, someone who she would irrevocably love and care for one day and be loved and cared for in return.

On a whim, she stepped forward and hugged him.

She felt him tense and stiffen for a minute before he gingerly wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him. "I've never been hugged before," he murmured into her hair. "Valentine wasn't one for coddling. He was always telling me to be tougher, to be stronger."

Clary hugged him harder, her heart going out to her brother. To not receive any love and affection for eighteen years…she couldn't ever imagine not being kissed or hugged by her mother. "Forget about him," she murmured. "You're free of him now."

It was time to start again.


Yes, the ending was cliché and lame and too mushy. But you know what, I don't care because I got my Jonathan and Clary bonding moment! And I know Clary, Jace and Jonathan are a bit OOC in this but please bear with me. Like I said before, this is my first Mortal Instruments fanfic and I do need time to get adjusted to writing the characters.

Please review, since I spent my time writing this chapter for you instead of studying like I was supposed to….so make it worthwhile!

Till next time!